NSFW 2084: Draft

Thread Description
Written form of one of my stories to-be-drawn as a comic in the future.


Author's Note
This is one of my original stories that I haven't really put onto paper before beyond some concepts I've had.
As some may have noticed, the title is literally 1984, but add 100 years to it, creating a date in the future.
And from the title, I'm sure you guys can assume it's a story that takes place in a dystopia, reminiscent and in reference to 1984.

However, my story will differ from 1984 because 1) I have never read it because I've never gotten access to the copy or watched the movie or have the attention span to read a book, and 2) spoilers for the novel apparently, but while 1984 ends poorly for the protagonist, being only an average person who isn't special nor apart of the actual revolution that eventually after his death overthrows the corrupt dystopia, this story focuses on someone who's "normal" and has no supernatural powers or whatever, who's supposed to eventually overthrow her own corrupt government and change the world.

While the original story, from what I've heard from story analyses and reviews other people have done, the story ends on a dark note of despair, my story is about hope, and how "you don't need superpowers to change the world."
That being said, because this does take place in the future, sci-fi technology exists, and my protagonist essentially has nothing special beyond being smart and crafty to defeat cyborg government assassins with surveillance technology that would completely wipe privacy and liberty from the face of the Earth.

Yeah. I have no idea how she's going to get to that ending I want, but writing isn't something that you have to know every single event that happens in it as if recalling an old story; it can be a journey in of itself as you put your pen on paper -- or fingers on keyboard, in this day and age.

So, I hope you enjoy this journey with me, as we follow a young girl with autism, in a strange, cruel world, and what lessons and experiences that lie in this world.
Maybe we'll learn something from a world which does not exist, and hopefully never will exist.


Chapter 1: 2084
"If you stop acting and thinking like this, and get help, we won't hurt you!"
A monster with artificial armor, holding a tool that can suddenly end heartbeats and dreams with a loud bang, is searching for me.

I remember back when I was 6 years old, and I've began to notice that I was different from the others.
I don't mean that I was physically different or talented; people acted and behaved in ways that didn't make sense for me.
Saying the same words can mean different things, little body movements meant important things, and kids my age weren't subtle to tell me that I was odd.
I wasn't fun to be around because I got angry easily over jokes, or I was boring because I did things on repeat over and over again, and often get really angry when people wanted me to try something new.
And my heart was aching, feeling as if I did something wrong, and the only thing that I noticed and that made sense was that I was different.
In order to belong, I masked myself, acting as characters in television shows, copying others, doing the same things they do, even if they made no sense, in order to not be rejected.
I acted like "Jimmy the Jolly Jaguar," a joyful upbeat cartoon jaguar that other kids, including me, liked a lot.
I smiled a lot, watched and copied other peoples' laughs after a joke had been told, listened to and walked about other peoples' interests, despite not knowing that interest nor having interest in it myself.
It was tiring to put up an act all the time, but people began to like me, sharing food with me and sharing playtime with me.
Eventually, it felt like my own body was on auto-pilot, acting and being normal despite that it wasn't me, and that what the people around me like was just my mask; they don't know who I am.

One day, I remember that there was a fair being held.
Every kid with their parents had to go, and it seemed like fun, with my parents finally having a break from work, and we could spend time together, instead of most of my time being spent with weird government official babysitters, teaching me stuff like "The Sister's word is rule," "The Sister knows and punishes all sins," and "The Sister's morals should be personal laws," things that seemed obvious.
I was told I was a good girl, having learned faster than others. But it didn't feel special to me, because there was something off about that.
"Assail the Acardia" was the name of the fair, where people could see and play games using them.
Acardia are born of humans, and anyone can be them, your friends, teachers, even your own family, but are not human; they're degenerate monsters who rape and kill children like me, and live purely to be evil and hateful, racist and bigoted, with ideas that can infect the vulnerable to believe and eventually become a monster, normalizing a world of monsters.
If anyone encounters one, we need to contact the cops, and don't listen to a single word they say, screaming and shouting over them, until they're removed.
I've never met one, and I've only heard about them in lessons from my classes, so this fair is the first time I'd ever meet one.
When I went with my family, I wanted to have a fun time with them, since I rarely ever got to be with them.
But all I saw was hell.
People who looked like my friends and me, chained up, scars sewed with black string near the neck, naked with skin covered in cuts, scars, bruises, and rotting flesh.
I saw my friends getting whips of different weights, length, and sizes, striking the Acardia and having a contest to see how big of a reaction they could get from them, or if they could kill them in one shot.
In the cartoons, the Acardia were humanoid, deformed, and violent, did evil things which Big Sister rightfully punished them for.
In drawings, they were deformed monsters, horrifying and terrifying.
They were deformed, horrifying, and terrifying.
But not in the way those cartoons had shown.
"Look at me!" Ainsley, a popular student at my school, holds a stick with a sharp weight on its end up to the ceiling, "I'm Tracy, the hero who lets no Acardia avoid their punishment!"
Xe slams that stick into a child Acardia's stomach, leaving a visible reddish-purple mark on its belly, causing it to cough blood from its mouth and curl up in pain.
"Renee the Girlboss, ready to back you up!" Shay, another student, kicks one of those things across the face, but it doesn't react beyond its face having moved from the impact.
Sloan snickers, "Shay, you gotta beat them harder than that if you want to make it react!"
I couldn't help but feel so different from everyone else at that moment.
I know the Acardia are evil, unforgivable, irredeemable, with only forgiveness, redemption, and change given to them by The Sister, but I couldn't help but see what was in front of me.
Other humans brutalizing other humans.
And I couldn't help but smile and join in, grabbing a whip and striking them with all my might.
My body took the whip by itself, and I felt my own soul so far away from my own body.
I felt sick for some reason, even if they're nothing but monsters, to hurt them in this way, so so badly.
The mask I wore was choking me, as if trying to get rid of me.
I was not the body, but some alien observer, and it didn't want to feel sick.
I'm not supposed to feel sick, but instead happiness and joy.
I'm not my body nor my mask.
And I can't help but feel as if I'm a fraud, a failure who can't find joy in hurting these things.
I should find joy in this, but it hurts to smile; my chest hurts as much as my mouth.
Luckily, my father and mother took me to go eat some food.
But I can't help but feel that they'd be disappointed in me if they knew everything I did was fake.
I have my father's laugh, and although everyone finds it funny that I'm able to laugh like he does, I hope that they don't realize everything else has been nothing but fake.
I love my mom's cooking, her headpats and hugs, and my father's books, his games and his hugs, and I don't want to disappoint them after everything they've done for me.
Even if they weren't with me a lot of my life, I still love them, and I don't want to lose their love.
I didn't ask to be born different or abnormal, and I haven't done anything wrong to deserve this either.
Is The Sister cruel? For giving me this... sickness?

Some more years in the future, I remember an Acardia managed to hack all the screens in the country.
It gave a speech about how they weren't evil, how we're all wrong, and how they're humans too.
They showed videos of people being tortured with cuts everywhere and slowly decapitated by Acardia, which were on the news that my parents were watching.
But they said that those weren't people being killed by Acardia, but government officials abusing Acardia, and that they're human too.
It didn't take long for it to be shut down and removed, and cops trying to hunt them down and figure out what went wrong.
I couldn't help but feel like something was wrong, but I couldn't help but feel as if I'm wrong.
When I went to school, it was the talk, and everyone thought it was funny, and didn't care at all, if they even heard it, had their censor sirens gone off.
"Why is it that every time one of those freaks manage to do something like that," Ainsley groans, "they always talk about how they're human?"
"They think for themselves instead of letting The Sister doing it for us," Shay replies with a similar groan, "as if they're smarter and know better than Her."
Xe scoffs, "Imagine trusting one of those freaks to be smarter than Her."
"Speaking of Her, She wants me to be a dancer!" Shay says.
"You got your career chosen before I did?!" Xe says, smiling giddily, "You're so lucky!"
Shay nods. "Mm!"
"Hey everyone!" Ainsley points to Shay, "Zie got hirs career chosen!"
Everyone is often excited to have their career chosen, because it means we can contribute something to the world.
And because Big Sister is the one who chooses our destiny, we know it's the one thing we should and can do.
But I'm not excited like them, because I want to do something I like for my career.
And if I'm given something I hate, I'll be stuck with it forever, like my parents.
They don't say it, but after some time, I notice that their bodies and expressions are often hollow when they say that they enjoy work.
"Get a lot of rest, because tomorrow will be just as busy!" I say to them, despite wanting them to stay with me.
All I can do is be a cheerful girl that's always smiling for them, a perfect daughter that they can be proud of.
"I'm glad my sweet little girl is always so full of joy and life!" My mom ruffles my hair, wide smile on her face.
But that expression is equally as hollow, and I can't help but feel like her life is slowly draining away.
I don't know what'll happen to Shay, but I hope ze'll be happy as hir moves out and becomes a dancer where She needs Shay.

You might've noticed that this story is incredibly... you know... weird?
Probably because of all the neo-pronouns I used, and slight wokeness, but don't worry about it too much; You don't need to understand what any of them mean to get the grasp of the story.
That being said, this story takes place in a Dystopia. I'm not sure if anyone has realized the implications of the things that are going on in this world, but I'll explain just in case.
Spoilers will be censored so things will still be a decent surprise, but things like fun-facts won't be.

Anyway, "Acardia" is a term I decided to use when I searched up a word for a synonym for "deformity" or "anomaly" in order to create a new category of groups for humans.
Acardia in-universe are essentially criminals of all kind, seen as immoral monsters who do degenerate things for their own selfishness, and are incapable of the civility of normal people, who obey the thoughts of the ideal Sister.
But Acardia don't truly exist. They're just a group label made up to categorize anyone who goes against the will of The Sister in any slightest of ways, including seeing those She deems as Acardia as human, to empathize and still treat them with empathy. It's a convenient tool to separate people.
I think that's slightly obvious, but it's my commentary on group labels; people don't exist as groups or labels, but as individuals that can't and shouldn't be judged with the group, by the group's entire crimes, as the group. Though ironically, it is such that the citizens of this world wish to be apart of The Sister; individuals whose sole purpose is to exist in a group: The Sister's followers.

Who is The Sister?
I'd say she's similar to Big Brother. She knows all, sees all. She knows what's best for you. She always does.
The world is bright and beautiful because of her, and it's only horrible because you're not like her, but like the Acardia and the uncivilized rabid outside.
She's perfect in every way. An omnipotent, omniscient, benevolent beauty.
But I have my thoughts on that.

What are Dancers?
I think you can figure it out from the job title: They dance. As celebrity child strippers for the public that tend to just be forgotten or disposed of once they're too old and withered to be of any entertainment in any civil sense.

Anyway, hope you all somehow enjoyed that short little story. I think I have a grasp on where I want to go with this story now, thanks to this little adventure, so I'm certainly looking forward to where the next story leads me.

Writing can sometimes just be an adventure. Explore the world you've built, and scribe your journey on stone.
It need not be perfect, just entertaining, insightful, or something else, maybe even nothing.
A work can't be judged until it exists, after all.
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Chapter 2: Wrong
"What's wrong, Casey?" Basil asks me.
"Nothing!" I say with a smile.
Maybe it's visible on my face, but I've never been able to get those images out of my head.
Those people from childhood never left my head, their bodies horribly damaged, wounded, and all for others' amusement.
Even if they were monsters, they looked so human.
And even if everyone are human, the way they enjoyed their miseries made them look like monsters.
I'm wrong to think this, but the blood won't come out of my mind.
And I can't help but feel disgusted in a deep way whenever it comes back to my mind again.
"You haven't touched your lunch at all," Sprout points out.
"Ah..." So it wasn't my face.
I typically chow down most meals no problem, but I've just had an aversion to things that are red.
Because sometimes when I see that color, I'm reminded of those blood and guts.
Doesn't help the fact the steak is still red with raw juices, which is disgusting.
"If you don't want it..." Basil reaches their arms slowly toward my tray.
I push my tray and let them have the steak they often crave. I'm not hungry anyway.
They gleefully take my permission and begin to chow down on the steak, and soon begin to make way with the mash potatoes, regularly drinking my juice and milk to help digest the food.
"They're probably the fastest eater compared to both of us," Sprout says.
"Really? I thought we ate equally as fast," I reply.
The rest of the conversation was about the food we all like. Basil likes meat, Sprout likes soft foods, I generally like most foods that were made to taste good.

I'm haunted by nightmares.
I always imagine being chained down, unable to move far or fast, and I'm attacked by whips, sticks, and kicks.
It's hard to avoid all of them, but I always manage to avoid most of them for a decent while.
But the nightmare begins to end when their laughter and smiles get bigger and wider, and their frustrations grow as I continue to move.
As everyone finds joy in my pain, all their attacks land and continue to hit, the pain growing worse and worse until it's unbearable.
It always ends with my body feeling a sharp jolting overwhelming pain from my nightmares.
I'm never used to it and I've just learned to try and ignore it and go back to sleep, but I never get any proper sleep in the end.
When that nightmare pops up, simply staying still is impossible with how painful it gets, and pretending to be unaffected only makes them crueler.
But eventually my body gets tired, no matter how I avoid the attacks, and I'm soon overwhelmed by sadistic pain.
The same question that plagues my mind ever since that day echoes in my mind.
"What really makes them different from me?"
They're treated like monsters, degenerate animals who can only think of themselves.
Shay was one of them when ze didn't want to dance anymore. I saw hir scream at school when zie got a black bag pulled over her face.
Ze didn't want to dance or be touched in weird ways, and Shay suddenly appeared on television as one of those people.
But I've never seen that monster part of them, and I've always just been told no one ever has to because The Sister is ever-so vigilant.
If they aren't monsters, then I don't see if there even is an answer to that question.
They move like us, twitch in the same way when we get hurt, cry the same way when we get hurt, avoid pain just like all of us.
The only answer to that question which makes sense, yet doesn't, is that "They aren't different at all; they're the same as all of us, the same as me."
But that answer leads me to question why The Sister makes them suffer so much, and why everyone wants them to suffer so much.
The answer to that is the fact they're monsters, but I've never seen the monster part.
It is blasphemy to think this, but in the end, I can't believe that someone so kind, so powerful, so knowing, that they could allow such unnecessary suffering.
It isn't as if people don't make mistakes, and it's not as if people aren't held accountable for them, like their score goes down if they were unnecessarily mean.
But everyone changes for the better, their score goes back up eventually, and they're good people again.
Renee once called someone stupid for doing bad in class once, but she said sorry and made things up.
But what mistake have they made to deserve being treated so cruelly?
In a place empty of rape, murder, theft, and so on, why are there so many being treated like toys?
The news often displays many of those people being tormented, for the purpose of cleansing their soul, before they have their heads inevitably removed.
They apparently had raped, murdered, and stole, but yet I've never seen or met such people.
Everyone else fully trusts that those people are nothing but monsters who have raped, murdered, and stolen, because Sister said so.
But if She knows so much, why do horrible things like that happen? Why does She let it happen, if She knew?
She doesn't know everything, yet everyone treats Her as if She knows all.
And Her acts of cruelty to those people, who everyone calls monsters that rape, kill, and take, how is it that She can help redeem those who have done wrong, but can't at the same time?
Even if someone does something horrible, surely She could find it in them to make sure that they will be punished with kindness.
But what kindness is making them writhe in pain, live on television, with gashes and exposed guts?
Everyone finds pleasure in this and doesn't realize just how cruel it'd be if it were normal people up there, even though they look just the same as us.
Ainsley made memes of Shay's severed head put on a pike before their head was moved to the purification grounds.
I can't believe She is all-loving if She can't find it in Herself to give them mercy from that.
Even if I'm weird for thinking this, I can't help but see them as human.
I don't want to see them suffer helplessly. I don't want to see anyone suffer helplessly.
Even if they've done something horrible, surely no one can do anything so bad that they deserve such cruelty.
My thoughts are wrong, but I can't help but think them.
The world simply becomes unfathomable if my answers are wrong.
The Sister's will and words I can't help but look at and judge with my own eyes.
There never needs to be such treatment for even the worst of people.
Maybe it's because I'm naive and know little, but...
If this world truly is the paradise The Sister and everyone claims, then why can it be so cruel?

The school has a counselor named Jackie, who often helps students with various problems they have.
Many others have said that she can be trusted with even the most weirdest of things, like family troubles where relations between family is strained, degenerate thoughts and feelings of sex, or even doubts of the world that The Sister has made and is continuing to make.
She always manages to get people back on track with life, giving advice and thoughts that help bring people to a place where they fit.
I've often visit her and often get questioned on why I ask certain questions about certain things.
"Casey, why did you say that the freaks are human?"
And I think I was too bold this time around.
Throughout my life, I'm often bullied for asking a lot of questions. For questioning Her as if I knew more than She, or doubted the simple reality in front of me. I've gotten in trouble for asking the wrong questions, saying the wrong thing, thinking the wrong thing.
But I can't stop myself from questioning things, for saying things, and thinking things, because I'll go mad if I can't get an answer to why this world is.

The names "Basil" and "Sprout" comes from this song:

Changed "Acardia" to "Freak" because it's more to-the-point and easily more understood than some esoteric term.

My current vision of Casey's personality is a very strong-hearted girl who's kind and often questions things a lot, being a curious girl.
Though, because her kindness extends to those who no longer should receive it, and her curiosity leads to questioning unquestionable wills, she eventually is thrown outside the world she knows and is able to look at how truly fucked it is.
Eventually her character develops to be more thick-skinned and more than willing to do things she originally may see as imperfect and cruel to get things done, which is in contrast to what values she currently holds because of the world around her: everyone ought to be perfect and kind, like The Sister.

Perfect symbols that represent ideas, when their imperfections are shown, lead people to either question what they know about such an idea or for them to doubt their own eyes.
Many have been taught to doubt their own eyes.
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